Armistice and Accompaniment
by Kerrison
Summary: It started out with Deeks needing every minute of that sleep - but just as importantly, he needed her there. Sleep isn't nearly as elusive as it used to be- but the need for her to be there hasn't ebbed. Post ep from 5x01 and onward for season 5. Spoilers may occur.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I feel incredibly lucky to know my friend (and Beta) **Jen. **I cannot believe we've known each other this long or that you've put up with my drivel/writing as much as you have. Thank you for your friendship and for taking a last minute look at this. :) One of these days, I'm sure I will disappoint you. I hope it is not today.

I do not own NCIS:LA, any canonical characters, or even my car. Please do not sue me. I promise to return the characters relatively unscathed when I'm done with them.

* * *

He shifted slightly as his body finally succumbed to much needed sleep and Kensi couldn't help but startle when his frame sagged in relaxation.

His body was tipped towards her; drooping. His eyes were closed and his shaggy hair hid them from her gaze. It was the same as when she had sliced the binds from his hands, freeing him from that damned chair in that damned room.

It was a memory she couldn't shake and the similarities - then and now- were enough to put her heart in her throat for just the briefest of seconds.

Except then he had blood covering his face, dripping down and staining his shirt front. His cheeks had been so swollen that his normally enticing lips had made her wince sympathetically.

The urge to push his hair away from his face; to watch him breath; to watch his eyelids flutter in sleep; to replace the memory with a vivid image of what he looked like now - home and sleeping as peacefully as he was able; the urge was overwhelming.

She lifted her right hand and allowed a gentle indulgence. The backs of her fingers smoothed the locks away from his brow in barely a caress.

Apparently she was not as stealthy with her touch as she had hoped and she barely got a good look at the face of her partner before he shifted again. Deeks gravitated towards her touch: his entire body lilting in her direction as if her fingers had activated his 'cuddle' mechanism.

_He's definitely asleep_, she thought to herself with a smirk, examining his face for any sign of consciousness.

His temple was against her collarbone, his chest only a few inches from her side. His right hand twitched and his arm eased ever so slightly closer in a movement so subtle that had she not spent years working next to him, she would have missed it.

A small part of her couldn't help but think that any other time, he would take the late-night movie session as an opportunity to continue to explore their 'horrible communication skills.'

But not tonight. Not now.

Now, she delicately shifted under him, making sure they were both comfortable. Now, she shifted her right arm which encircled his shoulder and gently stroked the hair away from his face.

He sighed deeply and she could felt him relax even further.

Sleep had claimed him, but the tension that radiated through his mind and body still held firm.

Kensi stroked the hair away from his brow again and his hand - as if in reflex to the gentle touch - reached out and somehow managed to find her own. Their fingers tangled and she squeezed his grip.

Damnit but she hated the sting of tears welling in her eyes. She hated that she wanted to cry- that she was going to cry. She hated to see him so broken. She wanted so badly to fix him...to fix this. But she was Bad Ass Blye. She was not the fixer. That was his job.

This was the best she could do for now. For now, she could provide a comforting shoulder, a secure and safe presence and gentle, loving touch.

She toyed with his hair and tipped her head down, placing a delicate kiss to his crown as the first tear rolled down her cheek.

Kensi hated crying. She could count on one hand the number of times she had cried when there wasn't a gunshot wound or broken bone involved.

But right this minute, she cried for him. And for them. And she didn't resent her silent tears nearly as much as she usually did. If tears were a sign of weakness, she'd bear that cross willingly for him. If only the tears could wash some of his demons away.

The minutes ticked by as thoughts and memories swarmed her head. She tangled fingers in his hair, she planted hesitant kisses to his crown. Their fingers disengaged and his grip transferred to her hip, pulling her closer to him. She went willingly; the closer he got to her, the more he relaxed and the deeper he slept.

She let her eyes wander around his apartment and couldn't help but mentally catalog everything that was out of place from his normally fastidiously kept home. Kensi looked around and grimaced, gaining a better understanding of the demons he must have been fighting while he avoided the team.

While he avoided her.

Her head swirled again with that thought.

"You're not allowed to run anymore," she whispered, resting her chin on his head and closing her eyes.

The pre-dawn light peaked through the curtains and Kensi winced. She blinked, clearing her vision and finally letting her eyes fall on his clock.

_5:42. Crap. _ She must have drifted off. Her back would be sore today from sleeping half-upright and covered in Deeks, but she wouldn't trade it for the most comfortable bed. A small back ache was an acceptable price to know that your friend - your best friend - was taken care of.

Plus, if she was being completely honest with herself, the inadvertent snuggling was its own reward.

Kensi shifted, trying to stretch her legs without jostling her living-blanket. He stirred from her movements and she felt his body steadily creep into wakefulness.

She smiled. _That's good. At least he isn't freaking out. A slow crawl into consciousness is a good sign._

Kensi let her fingers toy with his hair as he came around. She squeezed his bicep and gently rubbed his arm. She managed to smother a grin when his fingers gripped her hip and he pulled her close just as his eyes cracked for the first time.

"Hey," she whispered, trying to not look as if she was enjoying the affection as much as she actually was.

She felt him tense in her arms, but it was not the tension of a man about to have a PTSD melt-down. It was the tension of a man who didn't remember how he got into someone's embrace and was fearful of the fallout.

Kensi squeezed his arm again, trying to offer reassurance, and let her fingernails gently scratch his scalp. "You were tired, huh?"

"I guess so," he agreed, his voice thick with sleep. Deeks pulled his head off her chest and managed to look at her abashedly.

"You could probably use a few more hours," she grinned. "But unfortunately you will have to get that sleep _without _your personal body-pillow. I have to get to OSP soon."

Deeks blinked, trying to purge the sleep from his eyes and mind. "What time is it?"

"Almost six."

"You stayed all night?"

"Yep."

"Did you get any sleep?" he queried, starting to pull away from her.

Kensi held firm to his arm and refused to untangle her fingers from his hair. He wasn't just pulling away to let her get to work; he was shutting down. She could feel the tension creeping back into him. And she feared he was too self-conscious about their current proximity to let himself relax around her again.

"I slept enough," she spoke firmly but with kindness and she tried to catch his gaze.

Deeks tried to pull his arm again, frowning at her grip. "Kens. I'm sorry. Let me-"

She interrupted him with a firm squeeze to his arm. "Deeks!"

He sighed and finally let himself look her in the eye.

"I'm fine. Don't apologize." Kensi knew the doubtful self-deprecating look that crossed his features and she smirked. "Any other circumstances, I'd even say it was 'nice.' Dinner. Movie. Fall asleep on the couch. One of the best nights in a girl could ask for."

"I-"

She shook her head, forestalling his words as he tried to apologize again for having draped himself across her in his sleep. "I'm glad you got some rest," she said. "And, honestly, that was probably the most I've slept since..." she didn't finish the sentence, letting her voice trail off. It didn't need to be spoken.

Deeks blinked. He certainly hadn't thought she'd be losing sleep. Sam? Sure. But Kensi or Callen? He had never considered it a possibility.

She nodded as she watched him process what she had just revealed. "It was hard when I couldn't talk to you, you know?" she whispered with a half shrug, referring to his chronic avoidance of her phone calls.

She had missed him. Those weren't her words. But its what she said.

Kensi looked away and released her grip on his arm. She leaned up and quickly placed the briefest of kisses on his forehead before rising from the couch.

"_You _need a shower!" she pulled him off the couch and down the hall. She gently steered him into his bedroom and the ensuite bath. "Coffee will be ready when you're done."

He stood in the bathroom looking somewhat perplexed and she shut the door.

She moved in a flurry fueled by anger. She was pissed she hadn't come by sooner. She was pissed this happened in the first place. She was pissed that she hadn't said anything after he kissed her. She was pissed she had to go to work and couldn't stay here all day to tend to her partner. She needed to be here as much as he apparently needed her to be here.

The anger became momentum for the fastest house cleaning she had ever done.

His bedroom was littered with laundry and she managed to scoop up the errant pieces of clothing and his stale bed linens, shoving them into his laundry basket. She shut the open drawers to his dresser and grabbed the two random energy-drink cans that had migrated away from the kitchen.

She propped the laundry basket on a hip and on the way to the washing machine, she chucked the trash in the bin. The laundry all got dumped in the washer - there was no time for sorting.

Kensi scooped the decaf into the pot and set it to brew. _The last thing he needs is more caffeine._

The dishes were loaded into the dishwasher as efficiently as she could and she did a quick round with a trash-bag picking up all of the obvious pieces of trash that littered his home.

The sound of the water turning off in the shower hit her ears and she couldn't help but grin as she took stock of the house. It sure as hell wasn't spotless but it certainly was better than before.

_That has to be some kind of record for the world's fastest house cleaning,_ she thought.

She found a pad and pen in his kitchen drawer.  
**  
_Switch your laundry. Put fresh sheets on your bed. Empty the dishwasher. Vaccum. Open the windows. Take out the trash._**

_**I'm not the maid.**_

_**No, I'm not wearing a French Maid costume for you.**_

_**-K**_

The coffee pot sputtered at the end of its brew cycle and she grabbed a mug from his cupboard. She poured the coffee, adding milk and a bit of sugar, just as he liked it. She grabbed one of his travel-mugs and made her own coffee - which required substantially more sugar.

She put two bits of bread in the toaster and hit the plunger. She pulled some jam out of the fridge, making a mental note of the lack of groceries, and put the jam and a clean knife on a plate in front of the toaster.

"I think my shower has become some sort of alternate universe portal. What the hell happened?" He stood in the doorway looking absolutely perplexed at his suddenly clean home and his best friend being domestic in his kitchen.

She whirled at the sound of his voice and mentally steeled herself against his pending snark. When none came she almost was at a loss.

She grabbed his coffee mug in one hand, hers in the other, and crossed the room to stand in front of him.

His hair was damp from his shower. He hadn't shaved or trimmed his scruff, but he certainly looked more like the man she knew. The faint scent of his soap tickled her nose.

Kensi extended his coffee cup, glaring pointedly at him until he accepted the steaming drink.

"Toast is almost ready," she offered.

"Kensi-"

Her brown locks fluttered as she shook her head in firm defiance. "I've got enough time go home and grab a shower before I head in. Do your chores." She pointed at the note on the counter.

Kensi grabbed her car keys off the table and the travel mug from the counter. She stilled when she reached the door.

"You'll answer your phone today?" she pleaded in a voice barely above a whisper.

He could only nod his head, meeting her eyes.

"Promise?"

He nodded solemnly. "Promise."

"Good." She didn't even try to hide her smile as she pulled the door shut behind her and hurried to her car.

Deeks blinked, not entirely sure what had just happened, but not at all displeased with the morning so far. It was certainly better than his last several mornings.

The sound of the toaster popping the crispy bread to the surface caused him to chuckle.

_She missed me._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note:** I still don't own anything and I'm still very very thankful for my friend and Beta, Jen. _

* * *

Kensi didn't need to look at the screen to know that it was Deeks calling; he had toyed with her phone weeks ago and programmed The Beach Boys as his personal ring tone. _California Girls. _She stifled a grin, still amused by the blatantly flirty message behind his song selection.

She thumbed the screen of her cell and cradled it against her shoulder, continuing to type the report that Hetty had made clear was to be finished before she left for the night.

"Did you do your chores?" She asked by way of greeting.

"No. Yes. What?" He stuttered, and she could visualize him frowning at his phone as he tried to navigate around what he had planned on saying and to the answer to her question. "Kens, some delivery kid just showed up with what appears to be a metric ton of groceries."

"Yeah."

"I didn't order groceries."

"Nope. I did," she replied as she keyed a few more words into her report.

"You-"

She sighed and broke her gaze from the screen and promptly cut off what she knew to be a protest. "Deeks, your fridge contained the sum total of three-weeks-past-expired orange juice that I'm shocked had not eaten through the carton, a very pathetic looking wrinkly apple and two Monster drinks - you're cut off, by the way. You ate the last of the bread this morning for toast and the milk is gone after our coffee. Other than that jar of jam, you were officially out of food."

Deeks glanced at the grocery bags littering his counter and he sighed, knowing she had a point and that her intentions were in the right place. He hated being babied but he could not deny that he would have done exactly the same thing if their roles had been reversed.

"You would have done the same thing," she said softly.

_Should I love or hate the fact that she lives in my head? _He knew she mistook his silence for anger and her words held a trace of defensiveness.

"Thank you." He grinned as he spoke the words and hoped she could hear his appreciation in his tone. For someone who knew his next words more frequently than not, they spent so much time with crossed wires. Too much time. "Um, you don't cook, Kens. Exactly what will I find in here?" He peeked into one of the bags.

Kensi shrugged and couldn't keep the abashed tone from her voice. "Nell helped."

"Tell her I said thanks," Deeks chuckled, reaching into the brown paper bag and pulling out a bakery box. "Ok, Nell's awesome, but there's no way she's responsible for these! A half-dozen Cronuts?"

Kensi felt her cheeks heat ever so slightly at his acknowledgement. "Deeks, I'm going to be really pissed if you don't save one for me. The delivery guy had to make an extra stop to pick those up."

Deeks paused, the box still held carefully in his hand. "I'll save you one. Are you coming over to get it? Or do I need to call the delivery guy back and send it to OSP?"

"I can come by," she said after a pause. _I can come by. I _want _to come by. I want to see you - to know you're ok. _Her mind spun, trying to come to terms with how badly she wanted to spend another night watching him get some much needed rest. "If you want me to."

Deeks set the box on the counter and looked around his apartment. He still hadn't tackled the list of chores Kensi had left. He had finally felt well enough to pick up Monty from the kennel and they had spent the afternoon walking around the block and playing fetch in the dog-park. He felt both refreshed and exhausted at the same time.

"If you come over, I'll trade you a cronut for help with my chores."

"Deeks!" She barked, pulling the phone away from her ear long enough to glare at the screen - as if her piercing look would wither him across the line. "Do your own damned chores!"

He chuckled. "Fine. But help me cook dinner?"

She rolled her eyes despite the grin that had settled across her features. "You can cook your own dinner, too," she barked, but she knew he heard the softness in her tone.

"Fine. You'd just burn down my kitchen anyway."

"Goodbye, Deeks," she huffed, trying not to chuckle while he could still hear.

"Later, Fern."

She heard the line disconnect and couldn't help but stare at the screen for a moment.

_Fern. _He hadn't called her Fern in months. Despite her protests, she not-so-secretly loved the pet name. And he knew it.

She swiped the screen on her phone to prompt it back to life and after the briefest hesitation, jabbed out a text.

'**Fern' can swing by as soon as these case reports are done and turned in to Hetty.  
Touch my Cronut and you'll regret it.**

She managed to knock out a few more lines on her report before her phone chirped.

Her screen flashed: _Deeks: _**Don't forget the French Maid's costume. **

Kensi rolled her eyes and quickly rattled off a reply.

**Pick one: French Maid, Personal Body-PIllow, or Partner. I can be ****ONE****. **

It was dangerous territory even to jokingly offer him the option of "French Maid." It wasn't that she'd actually wear the costume; there was no chance in hell. More concerning was that he might actually pick _that _over what she thought to be her most important role: partner.

His reply was immediate.

_Deeks_: **None of the above. I pick best friend.**

She shook her head and did nothing to hide the smile on her lips. The reports weren't going to write themselves and the longer she procrastinated, the longer it would be before she could go check on Deeks.

And enjoy her cronut.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's note: _**_Shockingly, nothing's changed since the last update. I still don't own NCIS. But I do own my ideas. :) And I'm still thankful for my betafriend, Jen. :)_

* * *

For the first time in years, Deeks was somewhat relieved to realize he didn't have his sidearm in the house. The noise from the kitchen had startled him from a brief nap and he certainly wasn't rested enough to keep from shooting first and asking questions later.

Despite the full night of sleep he was still catching up from weeks of insomnia and he'd crashed on his freshly made bed almost as soon as the sheets were tucked.

He stood bleary eyed at the hallway door and regarded the brunette who moved so fluidly through his kitchen. Kensi was washing out the travel mug she had stolen that morning.

It was just a coffee mug. It was just a metal cylinder surrounded in blue plastic, with a screw on lid. It kept his beverage hot while he drove to work. He had spent all of twelve dollars on it at Starbucks when they were on sale as a buy-one-get-one. The 'get one' in the deal was red and living in Kensi's cupboards at her own apartment. But she had made herself at home this morning, stealing his favorite travel mug, and now she was returning the item and ensuring it was clean. It was utterly responsible and not something he had expected from his less than fastidious partner. More than his shock at her returning the item was his shock at how seamlessly she moved in his home and how domestic and almost intimate this entire day had been. From waking up feeling one thousand percent safe in her embrace, to now seeing her so comfortable with his belongings and in his home, the feeling of domesticity and security overwhelmed him.

This certainly wasn't the home he grew up in. Marty Deeks did not grow up with Ward and June as role-models for a happy home.

But now, watching Kensi dry the dishware and set it on the counter for use the next morning, he couldn't help but realize that this - this level of trust and comfort and, yes, intimacy- is what he had been missing his entire life.

Kensi turned and he finally caught her eye. "Hey," she smiled, seeing the sleepy haze still on his face. "Did you get some rest?"

Deeks nodded. "Yeah. And chores are done!"

She heard the clicking of Monty's nails on the wood floors and was able to brace herself as her muttley friend barreled into her legs demanding affection.

"And the dynamic duo is back together, I see," she said, bending down to scratch behind Monty's ears, making his tail wag in doggy bliss.

"I picked him up this afternoon. We went to the park and played fetch for a while."

"You went out?" Kensi asked, standing up and moving back to the kitchen to fill Monty's water dish.

Deeks nodded, his blonde locks falling in his face before he pushed them back in reflex. "Not for long. But it was a nice day and Monty needed to stretch his legs; all that time at the kennel wasn't good for him."

_Monty's been locked in a kennel. And you've locked yourself in one, _she thought, setting the dog dish on the floor. Kensi leaned back against the kitchen counter and looked at her partner thoughtfully.

Deeks lifted his eyes from his dog and met Kensi's eyes and he couldn't help but step towards her quickly.

"Don't shoot me," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him in a tight hug.

He didn't immediately feel her relax into the embrace but he didn't feel her reaching for her sidearm, either. He tucked his head down towards her shoulder and whispered "Thank you" near her ear.

Kensi's arms snaked around his torso and she returned the squeeze with equal vigor. "Not doing anything you wouldn't do," she replied.

He squeezed her once more before bravely putting his hands on either side of her face in an attempt catch her eye and thank her, again, for the silent comfort last night.

_Oh god, _she flinched, her nerves flooding her with the first touch of anxiety. His hands framing her face caused the memory of him kissing her almost senseless to wash over her.

Kensi felt her breath catch and the flicker of -what was it? rejection? hurt? - she saw reflected in his eyes told her he felt her reaction, too.

She forced herself to relax and she slipped her own hands from his back to his waist, trying to swallow the nerves which tickled her 'flight' instinct.

"Don't worry. I wasn't going to do it again," he whispered, referencing their kiss. She saw the hurt quickly hide under well-schooled features. He released her face from his gentle hold. "I just ... seriously, Kens. Thanks for staying last night. And the groceries were - well, thank you. You didn't have to."

_Damnit! That's not what I - damnit! _She closed her eyes and cursed herself. "You're my best friend, Deeks. There's no where else I wanted to be," Kensi didn't remove her hands from his waist even when she felt his grip slide from her face. "I thought my blowing up your phone would have made that clear."

Deeks tried to step away and frowned when he found her hands on his waist not letting him leave her embrace. "I'm sorry -"

"I wasn't looking for an apology," she said quickly. "You promised it wouldn't happen again. I trust you."

He tried to step away but she refused to loosen her grip on his hips. "Kens, I -"

She shook her head at his attempt to step away and forced herself to trust their friendship as much as she trusted their partnership. "I wasn't 'worried,' Deeks," she admitted, knowing he'd catch up with her topic-change. "You caught me off guard. That's all." Kensi slipped her hand to his cheek quickly caressed his scruff before moving away and towards the fridge. She reached inside and pulled a cronut from the bakery box, not sparing a look over her shoulder at her partner.

She turned, broke her cronut in half, and put his half in his gaping mouth before taking a bite of her own.

Deeks shook his head. "Must be dreaming," he muttered around his bite of cronut.

"Why?"

"I managed to hug you, you did dishes, I think we _may _have had some sort of discussion about our 'thing' and we didn't killl each other, AND I think you just shared a pastry with me. This cannot be reality."

She snickered. "Its recovery-pity. Don't expect it to happen again." Kensi walked past him, playfully smacking his butt as she did so. She flopped on the couch and turned on the TV, smirking when she saw his shocked reaction to her butt-smack.

He settled next to her on the couch and felt her slide closer, pushing their shoulders against one another. Monty, never one to miss an opportunity to snuggle in a comfortable spot, jumped onto the sofa and climbed into Kensi's lap, his head resting on Deek's thigh.

_Not bad, Wednesday, _he thought as Monty let out a warm sigh and he felt her shoulder shift more firmly against his. _Not Bad._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's note: **Still don't own anything. Still not claiming to own anything other than my own ideas. Also stil thankful for my friend and Beta, Jen. _

* * *

Deeks flopped back on the couch, dislodging the cat pillows in the process. He reached down and grabbed the pillow, clenching and unclenching his hands around it while his mind spun.

_I don't want you here. _The words stung.

The worst part was that Callen hadn't been wrong - and Deeks knew it. If he had been in charge of the team, responsible for everyone's safety and case-closure, he would have said the same thing.

Was he ready?

His fingers twitched against the plush pillow and he closed his eyes against the wave of disappointment that washed over him. He couldn't deny the twinge of guilt there, either.

He never thought he'd do anything to risk his partner, the team or a case. But no one could deny that he had balked earlier that day and missed a shot; even Kensi hadn't been fooled when he blamed it on Sam being in his sight line. Damn, he was lucky that she knew enough to keep her mouth shut and not call him on his bullshit.

Kensi's routine had quickly evolved from nightly movie and quiet time on his sofa to semi-weekly takeout dinners. The last night she had stopped by he decided to cook for her. It wasn't Coq Au Vin or any of Julia Child's other masteries, but he made the effort for the salmon and salad to be at least be better than a carton of drippy - but delicious - pad thai. Based on her somewhat inappropriate moans of gratitude around the mouthfulls of food, he assumed his meal had surpassed her expectations.

His weeks of psyche-imposed seclusion had left him under-muscled and underweight. It wasn't until she had started dropping by and he was getting actual _sleep _instead of the occasional 15 minute 'power nap' (or passing out) that he even had an appetite for food.

Her grocery delivery a few weeks ago, combined with the excellent night's sleep, had been exactly what the proverbial doctor ordered to get him back into a normal meal routine.

Deeks' eyes flicked to the kitchen and he mentally catalogued the contents of his fridge, frowning as he realized that he'd be making a meal for one, as opposed to two. Kensi had become adept at sending a quick text when she was a few minutes from his home so he wouldn't be startled by her knock on the door. Since his phone had yet to bleep from a text, he assumed tonight would be dinner-for-one.

_Or dinner for one-point-five, _he thought, noticing Monty twitch mid-dream, sprawled on the chair nearby.

There was a tentative knock on his door and Deeks flinched and reflexively mentally catalogued his sidearm and knife. He shook his head at himself, wondering exactly when that anxiety would stop being his default reaction.

He barely had the door open enough to register her loose brown locks when she spoke: "Dinner plans?"

Deeks did nothing to hide his grin at the surprise. He stepped to the side of the doorway and she walked in, heading towards the kitchen. "I don't know. My normal dinner date hasn't told me her plans for the evening. I usually get a text by now, but nothing yet. I think she might be cheating on me."

"Your normal dinner date can't text at the moment," Kensi muttered. She pulled out a kitchen towel with her left hand and set it on the counter next to the fridge.

Deeks watched her, assessing her movements and his brow furrowed when he finally saw how she favored her right hand.

She pushed the lever for some ice and caught a few cubes, setting them on the towel and repeated the process once more before she felt her right wrist caught in his fingers.

His grip was as gentle as if she were a fledgling. "What the hell, Kensi?"

Kensi's knuckles were red and very swollen and some of the skin had abrasions.

She refused to meet his eye, but she pulled her hand gently from his and tried to fold the towel around the ice cubes, fumbling and knocking a cube to the floor.

His hands on her shoulders guided her out of the way and she watched him dump the ice in the sink. He pulled a small ziplock bag from one of the drawers and he held it under the crushed-ice lever on the fridge door, filling the bag part way. He zipped the bag and wrapped it in the towel and ever so gently laid it across the back of her hand.

Deeks leaned back, resting against the counter and he watched as she did the same before using her good hand to help herself sit on the counter.

"Did you break anything?" he finally asked, scrubbing his face with his hand. He had tended his own injuries after he had lost his temper and punched a wall before- he knew what that looked like when he saw it.

"The wall's fine."

"I meant your hand."

She shrugged. "Wanna order pizza?"

"Nice attempt at a topic change, Fern," he chastised. "But no dice. Is your hand broken?".

"I don't know if I broke anything, Deeks. I didn't go to the hospital; I came here, didn't I?" she snapped, gesturing in frustration and wincing as she moved her hand inadvertently.

He stepped forward and grabbed her wrist firmly and looked her square in the eye. "You need an xray."

"Its fine."

"Kensi, its your gun hand!"

"Deeks-" her words stilled in her throat as she felt the gentle caress of his thumb across the back of her hand. The tissue was swollen and the cuts were raw. But his touch, so gentle and reverent and caring, still sent a shiver down her spine and cooled her bubbling temper. He wasn't pushing just to push and she recognized it; he pushed because he was legitimately worried. "If its not better tomorrow, I'll go," she acquiesced.

He nodded and arched a brow. "So what did the wall do, exactly?"

"The wall didn't do anything."

"Ok," he said, hating that she was making this as difficult as she was. It shouldn't be this hard to care for each other; to look out for each other. Its what friends and partners did. Was she resistant because she didn't want him to care?

Kensi saw the myriad of emotions running across his face and recognized the self-doubt for what it was.

"I heard Callen," she whispered, watching as he raised his eyes to hers when he processed what she said. "I heard what he said to you."

Deeks shrugged. "He was right."

She shook her head, a curly dark lock falling in her face. "No. He wasn't. We've risked our asses to care for him and his causes - _not _because its always been the safe thing to do or the smart move...but we do it because he's part of the team."

He didn't say anything, his thumb continuing the pattern on the back of her hand whenever he lifted the icepack off to give her skin a rest from the chill.

"You're part of the team, Deeks." Kensi managed to catch his eye again and she continued. "We should support you the same way. He was wrong."

Deeks felt the corners of his mouth curl ever so slightly at her generous words. _Part of the team. _He had always acted as if he was part of the permanent team - more than a liaison.

"He wasn't entirely wrong," he admitted. "I missed the shot, Kens."

"I know," she said, reaching out with her good hand and pushing his blonde hair back from his face. She let her nails briefly scrub over his scalp. "I've missed shots, too. We all have."

"But-"

She squeezed her fingers on his hair, giving them the slightest tug and effectively stalling his words. "Its my ass on the line out there with you every day. If I didn't think you were fine, I would have said something." They both knew it wasn't entirely true but neither mentioned it. "We'll hit the range together, if you want. Or you can go alone. Just... just tell me what you need."

It wasn't a desperate plea for her to be included or validated. It wasn't a needy statement. It was an honest offer of help - and Deeks accepted it as such.

"I could use a jogging buddy if you want to go for a run tomorrow?" he said after a pause as he processed her words.

She nodded instantly. "Expect to eat my dust."

He smirked. "I'd care more if the view from back there wasn't so good."

The tiniest bit of pink tinged her cheeks but she merely rolled her eyes. "We can go to the range after and shoot a couple clips?"

Deeks looked at her hand before replacing the icepack. "Fern, if you think you'll be able to do anything other than wave hello with that hand tomorrow, you're delusional."

"Wanna bet?" she challenged.

"You're on." He snickered, stepping away and towards the fridge, beginning to pull out dinner fixings. "And, to answer your earlier question, Ms. Blye, no. I do not want Pizza. But I will be happy to make you a phenomenal meal if you'll indulge me by being my dinner guest this evening?"

Kensi felt her mouth water at the idea of another of his homemade meals. "I think I could be persuaded." He began chopping vegetables, telling stories from his LAPD days and the soothing tone in his voice washed over her.

_I could do this every night, _she thought, unable to keep the smile from her face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **_Super extra thanks to adangeli for her midnight beta skills on this last minute re-write. She's kinda cool. And, of course, also cool is my good betabuddy, Jen. Something I absolutely love and cherish is the fact that not only do these gals have awesome beta skills, but they're amazing friends! I mean - we text and everything! :-D I Love that. And them. They're both wonderful._

* * *

Sitting on his kitchen counter and watching him cook had become their newest evening routine. Gone were the days of her 'randomly' swinging by with greasy bags of take out and the guise of a b-movie night.

Now it was clearly a planned evening in each other's company.

They'd leave OSP in separate cars but each would hit the freeway headed in the same direction: his place.

He'd toss her the keys while he went to the mailbox. Kensi would open the door to find Monty's wagging tail thumping against the leg of his hall-table. She'd clip his leash to his collar and they'd take a quick walk around the block. Deeks would flip through his mail, toe off his shoes inside his doorway and briefly tidy up before Kensi returned. Invariably by the time she and Monty returned and she was bent unclipping Monty's leash and rubbing his ears affectionately, Deeks would have started to pull out dinner fixings and popped the tops on two beers, one for each of them.

Kensi would boost herself onto his kitchen counter, dangling her feet and watching as he effortlessly moved around, preparing their meal.

He would chop and dice and saute and make the meal far more complicated than her relatively simplistic tastes demanded. Occasionally she'd think that it was his way of peacocking - demonstrating his ability to provide for a mate. It was unnecessary, she realized, as she already knew what he had to offer - and it was far more than enough and far more than she believed she deserved.

With each freshly sliced vegetable, he'd turn and hold a piece in front of her mouth for her to sample. She would delicately lip the veggie from his fingers and chomp away, listening to him tell tales from his days actively on the streets as a detective and even before as a cop, talk about that morning's surf or recount the latest chapter of the book he had been reading at night.

Tonight, however, he was remarkably quiet.

And she had yet to be offered any snacks while he cooked.

Kensi frowned as she took stock of the man in front of her.

Something had been bothering him all afternoon and she had yet to suss out exactly what.

"Hey," she said, swinging her leg out and gently nudging her toe into his thigh. He turned, regarding her foot and throwing her an arched eyebrow. "What's going on with you?"

He paused, turning down the heat under a burner and decided not to feign stupidity; not with her. Kensi deserved better.

"I don't want to be that guy," he said, looking her way but not meeting her eyes.

Kensi frowned, knowing he had started speaking mid-thought. He'd come back to the beginning; he always did.

And true to form, he pressed forward. "We're like the poster children for 'daddy issues.' With the exception of Sam, we're all just wandering around trying to find something to fill the 'father' shaped hole in our lives." He paused, checking to make sure the burner was on low and his sauce wouldn't boil-over or burn. He stepped away from the stove, and went to the back door, leaning against the doorjamb.

Deeks knew she'd follow him; he counted on it. The sound of her padding across across his wood floors was still reassuring. "Its like Callan's got this perpetual cloud hanging over him. He's spent the last thirty years trying to figure out what his first name is, for god's sake, never mind trying to learn what happened to his family. And the whole time, he's been busting his ass to get more scum off the street when he could, ya know, actually use the time to solve his own mysteries. All because his father put duty before his family."

She nodded. _This is about more than just Callan,_ she mused. "And you don't want to be that guy?"

Deeks half-shrugged. "I mean, I'd like to have kids. But I don't want a family if that's what its going to leave. Kids deserve better than that."

"Kids should mean getting tackled at the knees when you walk in the door. They should mean sticky hand prints on the walls and quiet bedtime stories, Kens," he continued, his voice somewhat hushed. "They shouldn't mean thirty year old eight-millimeter reels being the only connection kids have to their parents. It shouldn't mean never meeting your parents because they stood up for what's right."

Kensi leaned against his side, feeling his arm automatically reach across her shoulders, pulling her into him in a gentle embrace. She wrapped her arm around his waist and settled her head on his shoulder.

The sky was a beautiful cornflower blue turning pinks and oranges as the sun slowly dropped.

"If you had to choose between the job and having a family of your own, what would you pick?"

His reply was quick and without an ounce of hesitation in his tone. "The job." Deeks half shrugged, not wanting to dislodge her from his arms. "If we're out there bringing in the bad guys, someone else can tuck their kid in at night and not worry."

"Every time my dad got deployed, we'd worry about him not coming home," she said softly. It wasn't often she spoke of her father. "He said that he did what he did, that he was a Marine, to keep our family _and _every other family safe. He said that his life changed when he had a kid; it took an extra half a second before going into live fire. He still did it- it was his job, you know?"

"Yeah."

"But he said that it was harder once I was born. He had a bigger reason to come home every night. I miss him, Deeks. You know that. It was hard not having him around. But I couldn't be prouder of him for what he did. And for who he was." Kensi looked up, watching him watch the sky. "And that's how your kids are going to feel about you. You're going to be their hero - and you'll deserve every ounce of it."

She felt him sigh, his chest moving under her arm. It felt as if some of the tension eased out of his frame. "What if my kids don't get to know me? What if something happens?"

"It won't," she said firmly. _I won't let it. _

"Kensi-"

"Deeks, this is the first and last time we're ever having this conversation," she pulled away and he watched her eyes spark. "One: Nothing is going to happen. Two: if something _does _happen and you die or get hurt without my permission, I'm going to be _very _upset. And we both know you don't enjoy life when I'm _very upset. _Three: If, god forbid, your children don't get to know you for whatever reason - and it will not be because you're dead! - then just know they will have Uncle Callan and Uncle Sam to tell them all about you."

Deeks couldn't restrain the faint twitch of his lips as he tried desperately to not smirk at her adorable tirade. "And what about you?"

"I'll be there, too," she said with a nod, refusing to give herself a title similar to Callan's or Sam's.

"Telling them how awesome I am?"

She snickered in the way that he found absolutely adorable. "You wish," she replied, rolling her eyes.

He stepped away from the doorjamb and took a step towards her, beginning to invade her bubble. "Sooo you'll be Aunt Kensi?"

Deeks watched Kensi shift, breaking eye contact just like she always did when he stepped too close to their 'thing' and she started to feel what he knew was an almost overwhelming sense of anxiety bubbling up in her chest. It was her normal 'flight' reaction and he knew it stemmed from years of abandonment and fear.

She shrugged. "That's an option. Amazing Auntie Kensi."

Deeks scrunched his nose in distaste. "It doesn't fit. We'll have to find another title for you."

"Make a list. I'll cross off the ones I hate," she replied, trying to be flippant.

"No need. Its a short list." He shook his head. "There's only one title on it."

She blinked and he couldn't help but wonder if he crossed _way _too far over the line. _Too on the nose, Kens?_ He thought. When he saw her 'deer in the headlights face' he wondered if she might bolt at any second. He did some quick mental assessments to see if he could block her path to the door before she could flee.

It was a pleasant surprise for him when she slowly shook her head and let herself grin. "Can we put a pin in that list? Save it for another time?" Her voice was soft, more than a whisper, but just barely. When he nodded, she stepped towards the kitchen and picked up both of their beer bottles. She passed one to him, taking a swig out of her simultaneously.

"Will you feed me now? I haven't eaten in months!"

"Three hours, Kens. You haven't eaten in three hours. You had a snack on the way back from the interview today. You're not going to die."

"Says you," she tossed over her shoulder, grabbing the bowl of salad and plunking it on the table. "Let's eat, surfer boy."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's Note: **I feel very lucky to have both Jen and Dangeli in my corner when I write. Having a support team is an amazing feeling and I appreciate them more than I can convey. _

* * *

Deeks flung his bag over his shoulder and rubbed his hands together as he sidled up to her.

"I'm thinking the new Turkish place on LeSalle or I have some steaks we can throw on the grill at my place. What do you say?"

She was unnervingly quiet as she threw a few case reports into her bag before shouldering it. Kensi finally looked up, meeting his sparkling eyes with her deadly serious ones. "No."

His brow furrowed. "I have chicken..."

"No. No food." Kensi's ponytail whipped as she turned her head and stabbed him with an icy glare. "You want to die, Deeks, go for it. Jump in front of cars, buy crazy motorcycles, do whatever you want. But don't expect me to be all 'supportive partner' while you try to kill yourself ten different ways."

"Hey! Kens-"

"No." She repeated, cutting him off with a forceful single word, somehow turning the two letters into more than one syllable.

She turned, letting the door to the Mission slam behind her on her way to her car.

It was a few beats before his brain stopped whirling and his long legs caught up with her. Kensi had just unlocked her car, and was lifting up on the handle. He reached over, planting his hand on the door and preventing it from opening when she gave the handle a tug.

Kensi managed to take a breath before speaking through gritted teeth. "Deeks if you don't move your hand, I swear, I'll be a 'high risk behavior.' I will _hurt _you."

"It wasn't what you think," he ignored her threat, referring to her panic over his almost being hit by the truck.

"Like hell it wasn't," she spat, turning and slamming the side of her fist into his chest.

He captured her wrist, and kept her hand firmly trapped against his chest, despite her squirming to pull away. "You don't have to baby me."

"What part of '_I care about you'_ is hard for you to comprehend?" _Hell, its hard enough for me to say, _she thought.

"I know you do," he replied. _Just not the way I'd like._

Kensi rolled her eyes. "No, Deeks. I _CARE _about you. You cannot stand in front of speeding trucks and not expect me to be the smallest bit upset about it."

"I took the shot. I would have been fine."

"Damnit, Deeks, you were going to get run over!" She finally wrenched her hand away. "God. If you haven't learned anything in the last few months, didn't you learn that you're not invincible? You break, just like the rest of us!"

He blinked, finally processing the undercurrent of her words. "I know," he replied.

"You don't know! You don't know how I had to fight the damned nurse to get into the triage room with you. You don't know how it felt sitting there waiting for you to wake up. You don't know...," her voice trailed off and she blinked quickly, looking away. Damned if she was going to let him see her get weepy over the memory of him in the hospital. "Deeks, you don't even have an emergency contact listed, never mind a power of attorney on file."

"I'll fix that. Tomorrow. First thing."

"I don't want you to fix it! I mean, I do," she shook her head, clearing her thoughts as if her brain were an etch-a-sketch and just needed a good shake to make it something discernable. "I want you to _not _need it. I want you to not end up in the hospital again. And especially not for something you did because you haven't quite figured out just how ... just how much we need you."

"I know the team needs me," he said.

"What about how much _I_ need you?" she whispered, ducking her eyes.

"That one I'm learning. But the more you tell me, the more it'll sink in."

Kensi nodded and half-shrugged, admitting that communicating his value in so many words certainly wasn't her strong suit.

She reached up and tentatively touched his jaw, a small scrape red against his pale scruff. The debris from the explosion earlier had caught him as they ran, leaving the smallest abrasion on his chin. "I'm worried about you," she said gently.

It was Deeks' turn to shrug. "I'm fine."

"Don't," she reprimanded. "You're not fine and we both know it. Maybe you need to see someone?"

He sighed. "I'll think about it."

She gave him the look that clearly said _'Don't blow me off.'_

"I, um, I always feel better after dinner and a movie with you," he admitted, again offering a shrug. "I sleep better."

Kensi snickered. "I know. Most of the time you pass out on the couch before the movie's half over."

"Only when you're there, Fern," he replied. "The rest of the time, its Ambien which tucks me in at night."

Kensi felt her cheeks heat slightly at his compliment. "So, maybe until Nate can recommend someone for you, I'll come over a little more often?"

Deeks snickered. "That doesn't give me much motivation to schedule an appointment, does it?"

She rolled her eyes again. "Get in the car," Kensi ordered, knowing he had no ride home since his bike had been taken hostage by Hetty. "You owe me a steak. If you still feel like taking a risk, you can teach me to cook it."

He shuddered, over dramatically. "No. Food poisoning is not on my high-risk activity list. Thank you anyway." He ducked his head and kissed her temple. "But you, Kens? For what its worth, _you _already are my high risk behavior," he said, his voice barely a whisper. _One look, one touch, one word from you and I'm finished. _He turned and slipped around to the other side of the car, mentally planning the remainder of their dinner at home.

Home.

Funny how he only thought of it that way when she was over.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's note: **__State of the Union hasn't changed. I still don't own anything remotely close to NCIS. I own my own plot. That's about it. Also, I still am forever thankful to Dangeli and Jen for their awesomeness. _

* * *

Certainly he had felt a bit of change in team dynamic since his return to full duty. Part of it was Sam's now brotherly affection and respect for him. And Deeks was _not _complaining about that; he had more than earned the man's trust. Callen's inability to keep from giving Deeks the doubtful eye had only lasted week or two, so that wasn't it. And Hetty - well, she was Hetty and that hadn't changed one bit. But something was not right and Deeks hadn't been able to put his finger on it.

But that afternoon, he had felt a spark of awareness. And it had become clear to him, more and more, as the day progressed just how reluctant she was to let him out of her sight. _That _was the variable he hadn't analysed.

The team's mid-afternoon lunch runs were no longer as simple as 'Kensi ran out to grab lunch.' Now, they were a two-person ordeal with both she and Deeks heading out to bring back the grub. Or, if she whined hard enough, Sam or Eric would do the food run that day; Nell and Callen both proved to be immune to her batted lashes.

He'd gone to the range alone a grand total of two times. The other visits had resulted in either a silent brunette on his left, shooting off a clip of her own, or a sullen Callen who merely shrugged and nodded his head in the direction of the bullpen before putting in some practice of his own. It was Callen's attempt at silent communication, but Deeks hadn't quite deciphered that particular code yet. He didn't speak "G Callen" the same way that Sam did.

It was the S.E.A.L who finally spilled the beans. After Deeks gave him the third curious glance, Sam rolled his eyes and said "Kensi's been overprotective of all of us at one point or another."

"Seriously, man?" Deeks dropped the empty clip and popped in a fresh one before flicking the safety on his sidearm. "You all are babysitting me because Kensi's gone into overprotective mode?

"That girl can be scary," Sam merely squeezed the trigger, rapid-firing three more shots to the target's chest. "Marriage has taught me that arguing with a woman who cares about me only makes my life miserable for a long while. I'd rather let Michelle fuss over me than try to keep my ego in tact. Pride and love don't mix, Deeks. Just learn that lesson now." He pulled the trigger again, his eyes never leaving the target.

Deeks' brain seemed to get stuck on Sam mentioning the word 'love.'

_This has to stop. Today, _Deeks thought. There was one errand Deeks had been putting off doing and perhaps today was the day to make it happen.

He looked at the big man, blinked and tucked his Smith & Wesson into his waistband and silently left the room.

He never saw Sam shake his head or heard his soft chuckle.

She wasn't nearly as subtle as she thought and when she looked up to find Callen shaking his head in her direction with one of his tolerant smirks, she finally snapped.

"WHAT?" Kensi barked.

"You haven't taken your eyes off of that doorway for fifteen minutes," he simply replied.

"That's not true. I'm working on the sit rep!"

"Kensi, Deeks said he was going to the range and you were barely able to keep your butt in your seat. You waited a grand total of three minutes before bullying Sam into going to babysit for you. And you haven't taken your eyes off that door for more than 2 seconds since he's been down there. If you've got more than five lines on that report, then I owe you donuts for a week."

Kensi threw a glare his way and forced her eyes back to her computer screen, typing out their field report as quickly as she could. So intent on proving Callen wrong, she didn't notice her blonde partner sneak up behind her. Kensi startled when his hand settled on her wrist and gently closed around her skin.

Deeks noticed how she didn't yank her arm away as she would have with anyone else, only tensing her muscles in surprise.

"Come with me, princess," he said softly. He tugged, gently urging her to her feet. He grabbed her backpack off the back of her chair and shouldered his own.

"Hey!" She planted her feet, resisting. "I'm in the middle of something!"

"Yep. And it'll still be here on Monday." Deeks looked over her shoulder and met Callen's eye. The senior agent half-shrugged in silent-approval of whatever Deeks had planned.

"I'll finish it, Kensi. Just get outta here," Callen offered, willing to do a few minutes of paperwork if it meant Kensi got a mental-health break.

"Perfect. See? Callen's going to finish the report. Let's go."

"Would you let go of me?" She wrenched her wrist until she finally pulled it from his grasp. She shook her hand, trying to chase away the slight skin-burn she had received from the torque. "What the hell, Deeks?"

Deeks nodded. "Yep. That's exactly what we're going to go deal with," making absolutely no sense in his reply.

As per usual, Hetty showed up out of nowhere and her sudden voice caused them all the slightest startle. "Ms. Blye, I understand you and Mr. Deeks have an appointment today," Hetty's spoke as she stood next to Callen. "Please feel free to take the day off early. We will certainly call you should the need arise for you to join us earlier than Monday."

"Appointment-? Hetty, I-?" Kensi stuttered, looking between Deeks and Hetty with an absolutely baffled look on her face. She caught Callen's eye and he merely shrugged, silently conveying that he had no idea what this mystery appointment was about, either.

Deeks reached out and grabbed her hand again, this time lacing his fingers with hers in a move which seemed far more intimate than the previous wrist-grab. He gently but firmly tugged at their joined hands until Kensi finally released her stubborn-streak and followed him out the mission door.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: **_Hey! Guess what's changed since we last spoke?! Nothing. I still own nothing. And I am still unbelievably blessed by two awesome friends and betas. :) Thanks, gals. _

* * *

Deeks had managed to put her into his car and get out of the parking lot onto the freeway before he finally spared a glance at her. He had felt her eyes on him since he had started the engine back in the OSP parking lot.

Her gaze was hovering somewhere between irate and curious and right now Deeks knew he'd be better equipped to handle irate. If he screwed up explaining this to her, it was going to set them back months - maybe years if she really shut down.

"Better watch out. Your face is going to freeze that way, Fern," he teased, putting his eyes back on the road to try to navigate afternoon traffic on I-10.

Kensi just glared at him, still obviously trying to logic out his behavior. Deeks flipped his blinker and eased the car over to his exit. He took the first right off the exit and turned into the parking lot of a large brick building. He parked the car and grabbed his backpack. He didn't speak, the only sound was the rustle of his seat belt and the door latch as he hopped out of the car and went around to her side. He opened Kensi's door and stepped out of the way as if to invite her out of the car.

It had taken years of partnership with this man for Kensi to trust him enough to not beat his ass in the bullpen as he tried to pull her from the building without telling her where they were going. It was half trust and half self restraint which kept her from screaming at him on the car ride over; she desperately wanted to demand to know where he was taking her.

And now, as he stood holding her car-door open in front of her, Kensi resorted back to the trust she put in him and she let herself slip out of the car and stand in front of him. She watched as he relaxed ever so slightly- almost as if he had expected it to be much more of a battle.

He shut the car door behind her and turned, walking towards the large brick building.

_Do I really make everything that difficult for him?_ she thought, reflecting on the past few years and how she never seemed willing to _not _struggle for a power-play or to just trust his instincts until recently.

She was so lost in her self-deprecating thoughts, she almost plowed into him when he stopped next to a bench.

"Would you sit, please?" he asked and, if pressed, Kensi would have bet money she heard a small note of nerves his voice.

Kensi surprised herself at how readily she complied with his request. _Its long-past time I stopped fighting him on everything. I can sit on a damned bench without worrying. _

She watched as he unzipped his bag and pulled out a packet of papers and a pen that looked eerily familiar. "Is that my pen?"

"Its *A* pen, yes."

"Deeks, that's _my _pen. Its the pen I was looking for yesterday for two hours. You've had it the whole time, haven't you?"

"You wound me, Fern! I feel accused!"

"Good! Because I _am_ accusing you! Give me my damned pen, Deeks!"

"Fine. Hopefully you're going to need it anyway." he muttered, forking over the pen, but keeping the pieces of paper.

Kensi shook her head, her patience thin and curiosity strong. "Deeks, what-" he gave her a quick look which stilled her words.

"You can't watch over me twenty four hours a day, Kens," he said softly, sitting next to her on the bench and fiddling with the papers in his hand.

"I-" she started and promptly shut her mouth. She didn't cut her words short because he glared at her - in fact his eyes were still trained on the ground near his shoes. She cut her words off merely because she had been about to lie to him and to herself. And she didn't want to do that.

"You can't watch over me twenty four hours a day," he repeated. "And trust me when I tell you I know how nerve wracking that is. Because I want to watch over you, too, making sure you're safe every minute," he paused, knowing that his words could make or break the dynamic of their partnership. "I just can't, Kens. It's not practical and you know that."

Kensi's voice was barely above a whisper. "I know."

"You mentioned - um," Deeks cleared his throat and knew that he wouldn't be able to hide the nervousness from his voice. He wondered if he should even try; maybe she needed to know how important this was.

And then he stopped wondering.

Deeks felt her shift on the bench, ever so slightly, their hips touching one another. He managed to keep the relieved grin from taking over his features.

"I'm going to get hurt again," he said, looking up and finally meeting her eyes. "It's just the odds, Kensi. With the amount of gunfire we're around every day, I'm going to get hurt again. I hope to god it isn't anytime soon. I'm still kinda sore." he chuckled, rolling his shoulder in faux stiffness. He watched the corner of her lips twitch and he knew he hadn't scared her off yet, despite the topic. "You mentioned you had some trouble getting in to see me at the hospital?"

Kensi nodded. "They let Hetty back but there was no emergency contact for you. She had to work some magic to get me back there."

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice sincere. "I should have done this a long time ago." Deeks flipped the packet of papers over and tipped them in her direction, silently urging her to take them.

Kensi took the packet, and quickly glanced at the top sheet and then back at him. "Deeks, I-"

He shook his head and held up a hand. "I don't even want to imagine what that was like for you. I know I'd end up pulling my gun if someone told me I couldn't see you after you'd just been wheeled in on a gurney," he said. "You shouldn't have had to go through that and it's my fault."

She shook her head, her brown curls shaking with the motion. "You're unbelievable," Kensi chuckled. "You're the only guy I know who would get tortured and then feel guilty because *I* didn't get to stand at your bedside." She swatted his shoulder with the packet of papers. "Please."

Deeks managed a small chuckle. "Yeah well, I'm just that kinda guy."

Kensi cleared her throat and flipped through the pages quickly again. "So- this is actually what I think it is?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"You're serious? I'm not sure-"

Deeks turned slightly on the bench, facing her, their knees touching. "Kensi, I'm dead serious - excuse the pun. There's no one else I want making these decisions for me. There's no one else I trust like I trust you."

_There's no one else I trust like I trust you. _His words echoed in her head. She blinked, and she hoped he'd be polite enough to not mention the tears she knew were welling in her eyes. He had the power to do that lately.

"Power of Attorney is a big deal," she said, barely above a whisper.

"This is what I want, Kensi," Deeks reached up, and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

For a moment, Kensi's breath caught in her throat. It was as if he was speaking about more than just the Power of Attorney form she now clutched in her left hand.

Their usual flirty banter had taken on a decidedly more serious tone lately and she knew that he was at least physically interested in her. And she'd be lying if she said she didn't have her own designs on him. But what she was hearing in the undertones of everything he'd said and specifically not said was far more than physical.

And, truth be told, Kensi didn't hate the concept of 'more' with this man. An actual relationship? She wanted it.

She still felt the anxiety bubbling up on her chest. She felt the sting of losing her dad, of losing Jack and of losing Dom and she felt the ache of abandonment start to lick at her heels. She felt all the things she'd felt for years - all the things which had kept her "the best first date girl in town." Anything more than that was just a recipe for heartbreak and she didn't know how many more times she'd be able to scrape herself up again.

But sitting in front of her on this bench, his fingers toying nervously with the end of a lock of her hair, was the best partner she'd probably ever had. He put up with her shit in ways that Dom certainly hadn't. He treated her with respect that her much-younger self _never_ received from Jack. He invested his time in her - in their partnership _and _their friendship.

He teased her mercilessly, he mocked her eating habits, he sparred with her, he let her keep some of her control issues and he never once backed down from her when she was truly out of line. He was man enough to not only put up with her nonsense, he was man enough to call her on her shit, be there for the fall out and still respect her the next day.

He was, above all else, her best friend.

She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. "Ok. Where do I sign?"

His smile was empowering and Kensi didn't realize until just that minute how badly her answer could have broken him had she turned down his offer. "We'll go in and get it notarized," he said, standing from the bench.

She stood as well, the papers and pen in her left hand. With her right, she reached out and slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers.

She caught him sparing a quick glance down at their joined hands before giving her an incredulous look which morphed into a grin.

Kensi squeezed his hand in hers as they strolled toward the courthouse.

"Then I can drop it off with my lawyer. And we can grab some lunch if you want - there's usually a Taco Truck on Venice and Broadway on Fridays."

"Is it the truck with the Seared Ahi and Corn Salsa Tacos?"

"Seriously, Fern? Must you ask? Who knows your food preferences better than I?"

"No one. You're pretty well trained," she grinned at him, dropping his hand and sliding closer to him, bravely wrapping her arm about his waist in a sideways squeeze. Deeks' arm settled across her shoulders, returning the hug and not releasing her from his embrace.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:** _Shocking as this may seem- still don't own NCIS. Still feeling phenomenally lucky to have Jen and Sabrina in my corner. :-D _

* * *

Friday. Oh dear, beloved Friday. How he had longed for it all week.

Two days not at the office. Two days to catch up on chores, to walk the dog, to -weather permitting- surf. Two days where he would have to answer to no one other than Monty about his comings and goings.

At least that's how it used to be.

Now, despite his passionate love affair with the weekend, his schedule held to another mistress's needs.

Kensi.

She was coming over for dinner, as per their now almost nightly routine. She didn't follow him home, instead heading to her own place to grab a movie.

He had taken the opportunity to swing through the grocery store and had already loaded the basket with dinner fixings. But for now, his attention was stuck on the shelf of skin care products in front of him.

Lavender Scented. Coconut scented. Camphor and Eucalyptus for cooling of irritated skin. Gel. Oil. Cream. Foam. Electric razor. Modern Razor. Three blades. Five blades. Pivoting heads.

No wonder he just kept a beard trimmer; shaving was too many damned choices.

Deeks finally scooped up a tub of shaving cream, a brush, and a razor in a brand he already used for grooming his neck and chucked them all in the basket on top of the small roast and he headed towards the register.

"Deeks?"

He had heard the door open just as he buttoned his fresh pair of jeans and had tossed a hand towel over his shoulder. His hair was still damp from his shower and he was shirtless.

_Damnit. Why are you early this _one _time? _he thought, knowing that she had just put a kink in his surprise.

"I'll be out in a minute," he called through the cracked door, dipping his damp shaving brush in the cream and then swirling it against the skin on his cheek. Deeks felt the bristles of the brush lift his whiskers and massage the shaving cream into his skin.

He heard her footsteps coming down the hall and rolled his eyes at her complete lack of respect for his privacy. No other woman he knew would stroll so casually through his home. Of course, Kensi was unlike any other woman he knew - and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hey," she said, pushing the door lightly with one hand, peeking inside. "Something smells delicious. What's for dinner?"

_Damnit, _"I said I'd be out in a minute," he replied, trying not to sound snippy. "We're having a roast with veggies and mashed potatoes."

Her multi tonal eyes caught sight of him in the mirror and Deeks couldn't remember the last time he saw her countenance change so quickly. Confusion turned to shock which turned to annoyance.

"What are you doing?"

"Shaving." It was said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. Which it possibly was.

"No, I mean- _why_?" Kensi asked, pushing the door open the rest of the way and slipping into the bathroom to stand next to him at the mirror.

_Because I'm not George Clooney? _Deeks inwardly chastised himself. '_Because you said you don't find facial hair attractive.' Riiiight. Because I'm thirteen again and am basing my 'look' off what the popular girl I like thinks is 'cool.' Way to be a grown man,_ he thought.

Outwardly, he merely half shrugged and finished applying the rest of his shaving foam, his scruff completely covered at this point.

Kensi reached up and took the brush from his hand and set it on the counter. She turned and stood between him and the mirror, her arms folded across her chest as she looked at him with the same calculating gaze she gave suspects when she wasn't sure of their motives.

He watched the thoughts flicker across her features, as if there was a ticker-tape on her forehead.

She shook her head, a small smirk alighting upon her lips. "I thought you liked your scruff."

"I do. Did. I did," he stuttered.

"So you don't like it anymore?" she challenged, her voice soft and gentle as she reached up, tugging her hair into a ponytail and securing it with the hairband she kept looped around her wrist.

He shrugged. "Time for a change, maybe."

"Yeah," she snarked, clearly not believing him. She grabbed the damp towel from the counter and reached up with her left hand, settling her hand at the base of his skull, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck and her touch ever so delicately instructing him not to move.

He could have pulled away if he wanted to - but he was no fool. He didn't want to.

She lifted the damp towel and used a corner to wipe away the shaving cream.

"Kensi-" he started but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

"This is different," she said simply, having known what he was about to say. _You're different than that idiot barrista who doesn't know the real meaning of the word 'ironic.' You're different._

She flipped the towel in her hand, moving a clean portion of the cloth to her partner's cream-covered face. "That guy's facial hair was gross."

"And this?"

She rotated the towel again and used the remaining clean corner of cloth to wipe the last bit of the shaving cream from his jaw.

"This...," she started, her fingers running over his slightly damp but shaving-cream free whiskers.

The tickle against her fingertips sparked the memory from so many weeks ago when he cradled her face and his stubble tickled her skin while he caressed her lips with his own; when he tried desperately to show her what neither of them had been brave enough to put into words.

She resisted the desire to close her eyes and let the feeling of their kiss wash over her again, as she had indulged so many times.

She tried to imagine kissing him without the added stimuli of his whiskers against her skin. She tried to imagine his unruly locks tumbling across his forehead without his scruff to balance it out on his sun kissed face. She failed on both counts. She couldn't envision Deeks - her Deeks - without the extra texture on his face.

"This isn't gross," she said, letting her nails scratch his skin gently under his beard. "This is just _you."_

The urge to run her cheek along his jaw, feeling the friction of his scruff against her skin, was almost overwhelming.

She wanted to kiss his cheek, letting the whiskers tickle her lips.

She almost caved.

Almost.

It was one of the few times Kensi Blye wished her pride wasn't equally as strong as her willpower.

Instead, she allowed her hand to caress his jaw and enjoyed the sensation that had almost been taken away through his eagerness to please her and the sharpness of a Gillette Mach 3 razor.

One of these days she was going to learn to shut her mouth. One of these days she'd think before she spoke. And, god willing, one of these days she'd finally trust herself enough to reply honestly to one of his teasing prods, instead of with a very undeserved and hardly veiled dig at him.

She hoped that day came soon.

Kensi's fingers trailed down his jaw and she felt her wrist be encircled by his strong grip. She realized she had been caught staring at his strong jaw and she looked up and met his eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched as Deeks held her hand perfectly still and turned his head, placing a kiss in the center of her palm.

It would have been possible to disguise her soft inhale with a cough or some other innocuous noise, but the pretending had to end sometime. So instead of feigning indifference to his touch, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his lips against her flesh.

Deeks nuzzled her hand and watched her eyes flutter closed and thanked whomever was listening for this quiet moment between them.

A cold wet sensation against Kensi's foot startled her eyes open and she immediately glanced down to find Monty's nose snuffling against her ankle and the dog let out a little bark of impatience.

_Well, it was quiet, _Deeks thought, as he watched Kensi almost jump at the sound while practically wedged between his frame and the counter.

"Are you hungry?" she asked the dog. "Did your daddy forget to feed you?"

"I did _not _forget. Monty was just waiting so he could eat with the rest of the family."

Kensi stilled her movements again, her free hand bracing herself against his bare chest, his skin warm against her palm. Had he just included her in his family?

"Tell her, Monty," he continued, looking down at his companion. "Tell her that the Deeks men have manners and you didn't want to eat before your mom and I did."

_Mom? _"Since when do the Deeks men have manners?" she countered, deciding to let the 'mom' comment slide for now.

Deeks studied her for the briefest moment before responding, trying to gauge her reaction. "I've always had manners. I just don't always use them."

She smirked and shook her head at him, amused. "Fair enough, I suppose," she replied, slipping out from between him and the counter. She felt her shoulder brush his chest. Kensi realized she had been so concerned about his face - and his motivations behind the sudden change - that she had managed to keep her eyes from roaming to his bare chest .

"Does being Monty's 'mom' come with any benefit package?" She asked, turning in the doorway and resting her shoulder against the wooden frame.

He rinsed his shaving brush so the cream wouldn't dry and ruin the bristles and tossed the towel she had commandeered into the hamper. Deeks grabbed his T-shirt, pulling it over his head in a fluid movement.

"You mean dinner with us isn't enough of a benefit?"

She shrugged, turning and heading out of the bathroom and down the hall to the kitchen. He trailed behind, watching as she began to set the table for their meal. It wasn't the first time he had noticed how comfortable she was in his home and it wasn't the first time realized just how 'right' that felt to him.

"That depends. Does that include dessert?"

"It does." Deeks nodded, her favorite ice cream waiting in the freezer for after their meal.

"And snuggles on the sofa during movie-time?" Kensi queried, pausing in her motions to lean down and kiss Monty's forehead and ruffle the fur behind his ears.

"Depends. Doggie snuggles or...?" _Deeks snuggles, _he couldn't finish the latter option aloud. But he didn't need to; their 'thing' and years of nonverbal communication worked just fine.

Kensi knew exactly what the other option was.

"Either one," she replied, meeting and holding his gaze for just long enough to make his lips twitch upwards into a grin.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's note: **Thanks to the amazing D'Angeli and Jen. :) I'm a pretty lucky girl to have such fun friends. D'Angeli got her fair share of editing this week; I owe her big time.  
Hey guess what? I still don't own of the characters. I own my ideas and my plot. :-/ But I'm ok with selling those to NCISLA for a low-low price :-D Have your people call my people.  
_

* * *

Kensi listened to the crinkle of the brown bag as the car turned onto a street she could navigate in her sleep.

His building sat in the back corner of the complex and she pulled into his spare parking space which had, essentially, become _her _parking space.

She grabbed the bag and her keys and didn't stop to knock on the door, instead turning the handle and finding it unlocked and stepping right in as if she belonged there.

Kensi couldn't hold back the snicker as she noticed the train track looping around the coffee table and down the hall before doubling back on itself. The train chugged around the tracks, slower than she recalled from its brief run at OSP.

He was slumped against the sofa, his head lolling to the side and snoring ever so softly.

She slid down onto the floor next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, the bag at her hip. Deeks shifted towards her in his sleep, his head falling to rest on her shoulder.

Kensi chuckled and reached up, pushing some blonde hair out of his face, the touch causing him to stir. He blinked slowly as he woke and she took the extra moment to trail the back of her fingers against his cheek. It was a quick self-indulgent gesture and Kensi was rather surprised at herself.

When he finally was alert enough to take stock of his surroundings, he grinned at her.

"I should just give you a key," he said, his voice husky with sleep.

"You could. But you'd need to start locking your door first."

"I'll get you one tomorrow," he said, nuzzling his face further into her shoulder and tilting his body more towards hers despite their cramped position in the small space between the sofa and the coffee table.

She tipped her head onto his, enjoying the quiet contact. There was no pretense. There was no op. There was no suspect, no chasing, no stakeout. There was no Sam or Callen or Hetty to interrupt or give cause for their banter. This was their quiet time when their walls and defensive banter slowly fell away. She cherished every second.

"Did you stay up all night playing with your new toy?" she asked as the train slowly looped around again.

Deeks lifted a hand and rubbed his eyes before stretching and yawning. His arm fell around the back of the sofa, his thumb near her shoulder.

"It appears that I did."

"You didn't get up to surf. You didn't take Monty out. You didn't even watch porn last night ?" she teased. "All night with the train? Really?"

"Ah, Princess, I don't need porn when I have you," he teased, his thumb gently tracing patterns against her shoulder. "You're my eye candy."

She rolled her eyes. " You say stuff like that and it makes me wonder why I do nice things for you ," she said, picking up the bag and dangling it in front of him. "I brought you a present."

He reached a hand towards the bag but she pulled it away with a chuckle and rose to her feet.

"Ah ah. Not yet. Go wash up or whatever it is you do in the morning. I'll make coffee and find something for breakfast- lunch- whatever the hell time it is. And I'll let Monty out," she said, noticing the fluffy face near the back door gazing at her with pained eyes. He was begging to go out but hadn't woken his master yet.

The look on his face could be classified as "adoration" but she wasn't confident enough to use that word, so instead, Kensi labeled it "thankfulness." The promise of coffee usually prompted a thankful face.

He shuffled towards his room, careful to step over the track that took up most of the hallway floor.

She set the brown bag on the sofa in his normal spot and then proceeded to the kitchen, finding coffee and filters and beginning a breakfast even she could not screw up: toaster pastry and coffee.

He stumbled out a few moments later to find her standing with her back against the kitchen counter, a steaming coffee mug in each hand, watching his train move sluggishly around the tracks.

Kensi extended her arm and he took the coffee mug, wrapping one hand around its warmth.

"I can't believe I left it on all night," he said, noting how his coffee was - as always - just how he liked it.

She shrugged and reached around to the counter with her now free hand and grabbed the package she had effectively hidden behind her.

He looked down at the package she offered - twelve volt batteries.

"I figured this might happen," Kensi shrugged. "Go eat," she said, tipping her chin at the pastry on the coffee table.

She followed him to the couch and while he took his first bite of the toaster pastry, she unpacked the paper gift bag.

His eyes bulged when he noticed what she was unloading.

Three boxes of Airfix train paraphernalia; A Trackside Signal Gantry, a Level Crossing, and a Cattle Wagon. They were all in their original packaging.

He saw her reach in one last time, pulling out scale model trees, a signalman and a handful of extra track.

When she finally looked up from unloading her haul, she was almost breathless by the emotion in his gaze.

"I went to the vintage store on Madison looking for a vase for my mom for her birthday, but the train set was just sitting there. The guy said someone is cleaning out their basement and just bringing pieces as they come across them. I had him take your name down for the train set when it comes in - I mean, this one's just on loan..."

Deeks blinked at her and dropped his gaze down to the packages. His coffee mug got set on the table and he reverently lifted the aged cardboard box holding the Cattle Car.

"I think I love you, Fern," he said looking at the units in his hand with amazement. Their packaging was as pristine as a 30 year old collectible could be; the cardboard had become tinged with yellow and had soft, frayed corners.

"Awww," she snickered, "Just what every girl wants to hear. An 'I love you' with someone else's name on it."

"So if I said it with your name...?"

She rolled her eyes, dodging the question. "I still have to go find a present for mom's birthday. Do something _other_ than this today, will you?" she gestured vaguely at the train tracks. "Monty needs a walk and you need sunlight at some point."

"Wanna surf tomorrow?" he asked before she could slip completely out the door.

Kensi shrugged, and threw up her three fingers in 'the horns' gesture and laughed while he grimaced at her intentional bastardization of the surfer 'Shaka' gesture. "You pick me up. Bring coffee or don't come at all, " she replied, letting the door close behind her.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's note: **As shocking as this might seem to you, I did not win the lottery and rush out to buy NCIS. I still owe money to the car loan folks, the student loan folks, and - ya know - people who grow food. So I don't own these guys but I do own my plot and ideas :)_

_Thank you all for taking the time to review. Some of you expressed concern that this was taking a while to get anywhere. If you all haven't noticed, this is being written as post-eps. So if you want this to rush along, write to your friendly NCIS writer/producer. They're in charge. I may go AU at some point in the future, but for now I'm really enjoying the post-ep theme I have with this story._

_Many many many thanks to Jennifer and Sabrina. :) Hugs to you both. _

* * *

The sound of the knob turning was followed immediately by the clattering of Monty's nails on the wood floor as he rushed to the door in excitement.

"Hey, buddy," she said, setting her bag down and letting the door swing shut behind her. Kensi stooped and used both hands to scratch the dog's ears and chin. His tail wagged in doggie bliss as he squirmed, obviously thrilled to see her.

"He acts like he didn't just see you last night," Deeks teased while he rounded the hall and saw the two friends in their canine-human love fest.

Kensi pecked Monty on the forehead before receiving a face full of happy licks.

She grimaced, his rough tongue leaving slobbery kiss spots on her chin and jaw. She stood and grabbed her bag, taking it to the counter and pulling out a bottle of wine and a handful of DVD's.

It had become their custom and no words needed to be exchanged. He cooked, she brought entertainment and, if she wanted, alcohol. They'd eat on the sofa or, occasionally, at his dining table like grown ups. Most of the time their normal banter reigned, but occasionally there'd be an actual adult discussion about a current event.

Kensi looked up and noticed his damp hair. "Surfing?" she merely asked, slipping around him in his kitchen and dampening a paper towel under the faucet.

He merely nodded and watched as she wiped the towel across her jaw and chin- exactly where Monty had run his tongue.

"Seriously? You're wiping off Monty's kisses? That's harsh, Kens."

She curled her nose. "Deeks, I've watched him clean himself with that tongue. Ew."

He cocked a brow at him. "Is that the problem? Cuz **my **personal grooming method is way more hygienic. My kisses would _not _need to be wiped off."

Kensi resisted the urge to roll her eyes and play off his flirtation the way she always did. It was getting tiresome, this dance they did.

She half-smiled merely said. "I didn't wipe off your kiss," she whispered, deftly moving next to him and hopping onto the kitchen counter, as was her custom.

It was without a doubt the most direct thing she'd said about their kiss so many months ago. The mere fact that she hadn't dodged the topic threw Deeks for a loop and his silence gave him away.

The warmth of her body being mere millimeters from his but without touching was making him twitchy. When she tilted her frame sideways and bumped him gently, he realized that she, too, was craving contact- no matter how small.

"'If Kensi goes, I go?' Really?" she asked.

He just cocked his head and shrugged. "It's how we roll," he repeated.

"We're starting to sound like a co-dependent old married couple," she snarked.

"There's worse people we could sound like."

"Such as?"

"Callen and Sam," he replied, leaning into her personal space and reaching across her shoulder to the breakfast bar behind her. His hands closed around the bottle of wine and he pulled back. "Those two are an ad campaign for a healthy 'Bromance' most days."

The smell of salt water, sunshine, and a smell that was uniquely Deeks wafted into her nose and she couldn't help but miss it when he pulled away. A shiver of disappointment skittered down her spine. "True. Very true," she agreed, watching as he poured glasses for them both.

"Its not that I don't trust you," he started, handing her the glass, the Merlot glistening deep burgundy in the evening light that streamed through his windows. "I know you can look after yourself-"

"It's how we roll." she teased, cutting him off quickly with a grin, letting him know she wasn't the least upset. "You watch my back. I watch yours."

"And don't think I don't know how much you like the view!"

Kensi willed herself not to blush, instead barely keeping herself from choking on a sip of wine. "Only sometimes," she said, watching his eyebrows ease up in surprise at her admission. "There are a few pairs of jeans that aren't your friend and should absolutely hit the trash."

"I'll have you know, many women disagree with you," he said, setting his wine glass on the counter and turning the oven off as its timer dinged. "I have hordes of women who enjoy the view of my rear in jeans!"

"Seriously, don't use the word 'horde' when picking up chicks. I don't think it'll help you spread any legs or any DNA to breed a 'horde' of babies, for that matter."

"So you think 'Will you incubate my horde?' isn't the best pick-up line?" Deeks grinned at her as she tried not to snicker.

"I'd be surprised if the women you pick up know what 'incubate' and 'horde' mean," she teased.

"Hey!" He said, mock hurt in his voice. "You wound me, Kensalina!"

"Seriously, Deeks, the last woman I saw you oogle: I was impressed the peroxide in her hair hadn't dropped her IQ at least 20 points."

"First off, that was six months ago. Secondly, there was some gravity-defying force going on," he said, gesturing to his breast-area.

Kensi arched a brow. "Yeah. Silicone," she replied dryly, sipping her wine glass.

"Yep. And that's not my type," he said.

"Who are you kidding? You love blondes! Your little litter of Deek-lettes is going to run around the beaches with blonde sandy hair."

Deeks shook his head. "Brown curls. And Hazel eyes," he winked.

She almost choked on her sip of wine, but somehow managed to swallow.

"That is, if I can get the _last _woman I oogled to agree."

"Agree to incubate your horde?" she deflected, rolling her eyes and reverting back to their normal 'safe' banter.

"Yeah. I mean, there's more to it than that, but that's part of the long term plan."

"Long term plan, Deeks?" Kensi slipped off the counter and invaded his space. She reached around him to grab the salad bowl. "What is she, an opp you're running game on ?"

"No," He latched onto her arm with his, stopping her in her tracks. "Its much more important than that. _She's _much more important than that."

Kensi couldn't keep the small grin from settling over her features. "That's good to know." Her Hazel eyes sparkled. "Let's eat," she said, gently slipping from his grip and setting the salad bowl on the table. "You can tell me more about this tree-house you built."


End file.
